


Soft

by madlysanecatlady



Series: The Nice and Accurate Ineffable Husbands Compendium [16]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Body Positivity, Fluff, M/M, Self Consciousness, Softness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-29 00:22:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20073049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madlysanecatlady/pseuds/madlysanecatlady
Summary: Angels seem to think soft is a bad way to be. Crowley really doesn't see it that way.





	Soft

_Soft_. Why did Angels always seem to think that was such a bad thing to be? The way that most detestable arsehole of an Archangel Gabriel said the word, it sounded like a very dirty curse. Well, it _did_ happen to have four letters and all, but still. Crowley thought it was rather a ridiculous stance to take. The only Angel worth knowing in his opinion, _his_ angel, was wonderfully soft and was absolutely perfect that way – how could it possibly be anything but good? He was soft in every sense of the word – he was kind, gentle, loving, and yes, every angle of his body was softened and rounded by excess padding that Crowley loved to snuggle up to. Aziraphale truly wasn’t like any of the other Angels, and frankly, after all that trouble that came along with the Armageddon they diverted, well, Crowley could hardly see how either of them could be upset about it.

But when he caught Aziraphale in front of the full-length mirror in their bedroom, pinching at the excess flesh around his middle with a pained frown on his face, he knew that perhaps the insecurities he knew he’d always had about his differences from the others ran a great deal deeper than he’d thought. He would certainly need to do something about that. It would not do at all to have his angel feeling so sad as he looked.

Crowley padded silently over, miraculously becoming clad in pyjamas mid-step to match Aziraphale. He wound his arms tightly around the angel’s soft middle, burying his face in his warm neck. ‘Hi angel,’ he murmured, pressing a light kiss to the side of his throat. ‘Ready for bed?’

‘I was waiting for you dear,’ Aziraphale smiled at Crowley in mirror and tilted his head to press gently down atop Crowley’s. ‘I would never dream of trying to sleep without you at my side. You are a very soothing presence.’

‘Flatterer,’ Crowley kissed his cheek next, hands still resting on Aziraphale’s ample belly. He squeezed lightly, tugging a bit in the direction of the bed. ‘C’mon angel, bed time. What’re you reading tonight?’

‘Oh just an old tattered romance, you’d probably think it silly,’ Aziraphale said airily, waving his hand dismissively in front of him, but allowing himself to be gently steered towards the large plush bed by the firm hands at his soft waist.

‘Angel, if you like it, it’s in the very _least_ well-written,’ Crowley snorted. He arrange the pillows just so, how he knew Aziraphale liked them so he could be comfortably propped up to read for the hour they set aside for relaxing before settling in to actually sleep, and pulled back the plump mauve duvet, waiting for Aziraphale to settle comfortably in before slithering in after him. He disappeared, burying himself in the depths of the sheets and duvet, curling up comfortably at Aziraphale’s warm hip and laying his head heavily atop the soft, comfortable belly, arms winding themselves naturally, possessively around his angel.

‘Oh dear, I appear to have lost my dear Crowley,’ Aziraphale chuckled, Crowley rather liking the way his stomach rippled beneath his cheek as he did. ‘Are you feeling cold this evening, love? I can adjust the temperature.’

‘I just thought I’d spend some time on my favourite soft pillow is all,’ Crowley’s voice was muffled by the covers and the fact that he had turned his face into Aziraphale’s stomach, snuggling into the fleece of his flannel shirt. ‘Read your book, angel. I’m good here.’

‘What’s prompted this?’ Aziraphale ignored the invitation to read his book and instead reached under the covers, fingers seeking out and winding through the soft hair that tousled and rested against his stomach. He was not unused to Crowley being affectionate or really, downright _cuddly_, but had generally come to expect his attention to be _demanded_ in return – he’d not really had much experience with a cuddly Crowley who was pushing him to simply ignore him and read. He lifted the covers a little with his free hand, smiling down in spite of his wary confusion at the demon snuggling his face tightly against him.

‘What d’you mean?’ Crowley’s face turned to look up at him, yellow eyes glinting in the small bits of light sneaking under the covers to join him there.

‘Well, darling, not to complain about it, quite the opposite actually, but it’s just that you usually tend to demand a bit more reciprocation and attention when you’re in a shall we say more _affectionate_ mood,’ Aziraphale shrugged, scrunching the soft, slightly curling locks of red hair between his fingers.

‘You want me to be whiny and needy?’ Crowley grinned evilly. ‘I can do that, angel. Just say the word. I just thought you might like to have your usual wind-down before bed.’

‘I could be _tempted_ to allow a change up in my wind-down time,’ Aziraphale smirked. ‘There are many ways in which to _relax_.’

‘Why angel, I never,’ Crowley’s grin turned absolutely lecherous. ‘Wherever has your mind strayed you beautiful, corrupted beauty, you.’

‘Mm, you’ve corrupted me fully, my love,’ Aziraphale tugged gently at Crowley’s hair to prompt him upwards. He frowned when Crowley did not budge, remaining planted firmly against his stomach. ‘Come here, you. Don’t make me be the demanding one.’

‘Says the one who pouted until I removed _paint_ from his jacket,’ Crowley rolled his eyes. He shook his head, pressing his face back into the flannel-clad belly. ‘I’m _comfy_ here, angel. I’m not going anywhere.’

‘Well, at least there’s _some_ use for all that extra flesh round my middle,’ Aziraphale gave a short, humourless bark of a laugh that Crowley did not like at all. It sounded so deprecating and sad. That would not do.

‘_Soft_,’ he said simply, snuggling in more closely. He freed his hands from around his angel and instead ran them up under the soft flannel, running atop the warm flesh of Aziraphale’s plump belly. He pushed the fabric of the shirt up and out of the way, planting a firm kiss to soft skin. ‘Beautiful.’ He nuzzled his angel’s stomach again, pressing another kiss into the pliant flesh. ‘_Perfect_.’

‘Crowley?’ Aziraphale’s delicately groomed brow furrowed in confusion. ‘What are you doing?’

‘What’s it look like I’m doing angel?’ Crowley did not look up, instead opting to press another, messier kiss to the angel’s ample belly.

‘Well, frankly, it looks as though you’re a bit lost. Kissing is typically done up and around the face area is it not?’

‘Kissing can happen anywhere,’ Crowley informed his belly button. ‘There’ve just been places I think I’ve neglected a bit too much too long.’

‘Well, I hardly think there’s much need for any affectionate attentions to be paid, er, _there_,’ Aziraphale blushed when Crowley looked up at him, his pupils blown wide, a now very well-understood characteristic of his affections. He knew Crowley could very well see through him to the insecurities he was stubbornly still trying to mask about his less than svelte earthly body, but could not seem to overcome the rather tall hurdle of understanding just why he seemed to have genuine care and interest in it.

‘I’d ordinarily tease you about wanting the attention to drift a bit lower like the filthily corrupted little angel you are, but I think you might be trying to distract me,’ Crowley smiled lovingly up at him before his expression turned abruptly serious. ‘Angel, I _know_ you feel self-conscious about this truly gorgeous figure of yours. I _know_ what some of those arseholes upstairs have said to you about it. You know what, love? You _are_ soft. Inside and outside. And that is how I love you. You are kind and caring – soft, truly. And Angels upstairs can huff and puff all they like about it, but it’s a wonderful way to be. And yes, you’re soft right here,’ he squeezed some of the excess tummy in his hand lightly with a fond smile. ‘And no matter what _anyone_ else says, it’s perfect on you.’

‘Oh come off it, Crowley, I _am_ soft, but you needn’t coddle me about it,’ Aziraphale rolled his eyes. ‘I’ll just need to lay off some of the confectionaries, I suppose. Can’t be going around being lazy while you’re here being perfectly fit.’

‘You’re not hearing me angel,’ Crowley said quietly, tracing his fingers absently along the small hill of tummy, trailing them with fluttering kisses. ‘Soft is not a negative, in any sense, and certainly not when it comes to you. And you _are_ perfectly fit. Look at you, you’re absolutely _divine_.’

Aziraphale could barely smile at the small joke he was so completely taken aback by the depth of the sincerity and truth in Crowley’s tone. He had always been a little disbelieving of the fact that Crowley could ever in any way be attracted to a soft, frankly _awful_ excuse for an Angel, but had generally just rationalised that demons were probably meant to go out of their way to do things unconventionally. Aziraphale had been more than happy to go along with it if it meant having the one he loved so dearly close by his side, but had apparently never _quite_ seemed to properly and fully recognise the genuine and _deep_ love that radiated out of those beautiful amber eyes until this moment. The realisation was enough to stop the breath in his throat, knotting and forming rather a large and painful lump.

‘Angel,’ Crowley said gently, looking up at him with those loving, beautifully shining lumps of golden gemstones that served as eyes. ‘You _are_ perfect. You’re gorgeous, and kind, and soft, and I love every bit of you more than I think I’ll ever be able to find words to say. I’m only sorry I never saw just how much those arseholes’ abuse stuck with you until now – I could’ve been telling you every day.’

‘You’re not my emotional nanny, darling,’ Aziraphale shook his head. ‘I suppose I, yes, have been taking quite a few things my former superiors have said to me a bit too much to heart. And perhaps I’ve not been listening nearly enough to you.’

‘I’m not much of a talker when it comes to feelings, I probably should’ve translated it to your language,’ Crowley smiled. ‘I’ve always been more of a doer than a sayer.’

Aziraphale smiled, his generally intelligent brain finally allowing all the pieces to click. Crowley was a much more physically demonstrative person in most ways, _of course_ that translated to their, well, often very physical love life. He was awash with ineffable amounts of joy at the realisation of just how much love for him that Crowley had indeed been demonstrating over the millennia. He really had been quite the phenomenal idiot. He reached down to pet Crowley’s hair gently. ‘Perhaps I should have been working on learning your love language a bit more.’

Crowley grinned and pressed a very messy, lingering kiss to the closest piece of skin he could find. ‘No time like the present, right?’

Aziraphale smiled and tugged again at Crowley’s hair, his smile widening when Crowley actually obliged in moving up to kiss his lips. Crowley kissed him thoroughly for a bit before pulling away with a soft, affectionate smile. ‘Soft,’ he declared, pecking a new kiss to his lips again before continuing. ‘Silky, even. You’re a treat, angel.’

‘Crowley darling, don’t make me blush,’ Aziraphale was indeed turning a rather delicate pink that was loudly threatening to dive into red territory very quickly.

‘You blushing about it means I’m not telling you nearly enough, my beautiful _soft_ angel,’ Crowley moved his lips to the sensitive lobe of the angel’s ear, closing around it along with his teeth, drawing out a strangled sound that had him grinning into the cartilage.

‘I’m doubtful my ears are soft, love,’ Aziraphale rolled his eyes but, contrary to his words, moved his head to allow Crowley easier access.

‘In a way,’ Crowley shrugged before biting again, a little more sharply, smirking at the gasp he’d earned himself before moving on to his throat to suck a harsh red mark there. ‘Much softer here though. But there’s nothing soft about those moans you hungry angel,’ he grinned evilly as the red on Aziraphale’s cheeks darkened violently.

‘Evil, cruel, demon,’ Aziraphale huffed, but again moved to allow Crowley easier access to continue his ministrations. ‘You are a true master of temptation, aren’t you?’

‘You’re just easily tempted. Maybe just _soft_ on me, hm?’ Crowley winked, fingers deftly and quickly making a simple task of undoing the buttons of Aziraphale’s shirt, pulling it open and shoving it gracelessly down his shoulders. He descended hungrily, pressing messy, sucking kisses to alabaster skin between murmurs of endearments all generally pertaining to the word _soft_.

Aziraphale writhed and arched under the attention. Crowley knew all his most sensitive and favourite places and set about a familiar path, taking new detours to include new, sometimes neglected places that were still very deserving and apparently in much need of love and attention. He pressed a tender, lingering kiss to a soft, rounded shoulder before trailing a lecherous, _hungry_ lick down the curve of a somewhat defined but by no means chiseled bicep. ‘Scrumptiously soft.’

Crowley moved his attentions back to Aziraphale’s soft marshmallow of a tummy. He had by no means ever ignored this piece of his beloved angel before (there was much to be said for its success in being the most comfortable pillow Crowley had ever had the pleasure of resting his head upon), but admitted he had perhaps neglected to show it the proper level of love and care in pursuit of certain _other_ pieces with very different purposes in mind. He would likely get there in due time, he knew, but first, he really did have a point to make.

Not a millimeter of flesh was left unkissed. Each press of the lips brought forth a gently whispered word of devotion against the soft skin, sinking into it like a balm against the hurt of all the years of repressed self-consciousness. When he finished, Crowley snuggled back into the softness and hummed quietly. ‘Soft and beautiful and perfect. My angel.’

‘Are you going to finally allow me to reciprocate?’ Aziraphale asked softly, cheeks still pink but generally looking pleased by Crowley’s display. He wound his fingers through auburn curls and squeezed. ‘Come back up here, darling.’

‘Mm, no need angel, I’m perfectly good here,’ Crowley turned to smile up at him. ‘Although,’ the loving smile turned to a mischievous grin as he rose up to his knees in order to tug at the waistband of Aziraphale’s pyjama bottoms to peek inside. ‘I can probably help you to relax a bit more.’

Aziraphale’s question about what exactly he meant by that went unasked, instead coming out as a strangled mixture of a moan and a yelp as Crowley descended upon him, lips parting smoothly over the swollen, weeping head and dragging torturously down his silky length. He had not been expecting that, really. Well, he had, but not without warning like that. Crowley was usually one to talk filthily up to him at least a little bit before getting around to getting started. It seemed he was more in a _servicing_ mood than he was in an actual sexual one, which had, honestly, used to bother Aziraphale a little, but was something he was becoming used to. He was certainly not about to complain about the truly sinful things Crowley was doing with his tongue and lips – it was pure bliss. Moments with Crowley generally were, but there was something about the ones in which Crowley appeared to put every other thought aside and instead focussed the entirety of his attention on Aziraphale, on making his eyes roll and hips buck involuntarily upwards. This was doubly intoxicating, now that he’d finally caught up and properly understood that the depths of Crowley’s love were a proper rival to his own. Each lick and erotic slurp tugged at his heart just as much as it tugged anywhere _else_, knowing the emotion behind them.

With a particularly targeted suck and flick of the tongue, Crowley made Aziraphale’s mind go completely blank as he finished messily into his beloved’s waiting and hungry mouth. Crowley lapped up the drops that snuck free before tucking Aziraphale delicately back into his bottoms. He smiled up at the angel whose head had fallen back into the pillows, eyes closed with a laxly blissful smile playing at his lips. He reached out to pull his top back up and over his shoulders, tugging it back into place and buttoning it up, pausing to press a final lingering kiss to the center of his tummy before finishing.

‘I love you so very much, my darling Crowley,’ Aziraphale said, his voice dripping with just that love. He lifted his head from the pillows to smile at his love.

‘Mm, love you too, angel,’ Crowley leaned over to kiss him. ‘Ready for bed?’

‘Oh I suppose since you’ve tired me out so nicely,’ Aziraphale smirked. ‘You’re sure I can’t…’

‘Tomorrow’s another day, angel,’ Crowley curled around him, tossing a possessive arm over his belly and squeezing gently. ‘How’re you feeling now?’

Aziraphale smiled, fixing his pillows and settling in before pulling Crowley more tightly against him, pressing a kiss into his hair. He smiled. ‘Honestly, darling? _Soft_.’

‘Perfect,’ Crowley laughed, nuzzling his shoulder. ‘That’s just how I love you.’

Aziraphale was starting to think that maybe he could start loving himself like this too.


End file.
